


No wrong seasons

by Em_Jaye



Series: The Long Way Around [30]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 1970s, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mile High Club, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/pseuds/Em_Jaye
Summary: Woody Allen once said, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans." With that in mind, Darcy had to wonder if there was anyone who could make God laugh quite like Steve Rogers.December 22, 1974: Vacation
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Series: The Long Way Around [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402126
Comments: 167
Kudos: 273





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be 3 parts, but I wanted to make sure this first one was up for Valentine's Day for all of my loves and wonderful friendships here with Darcy and Steve in 1974.
> 
> Title is once again from our girl Mary Oliver:
> 
> For some things there are no wrong seasons. Which is what I dream of for me.  
> \- A Thousand Mornings

_December 22,1974_

Steve was always awake before Darcy. His body refused to let him sleep past what it required to be recharged, forcing his eyes open somewhere between four and five every morning. Weekends and vacations were no exception.

Even this exceptionally relaxing vacation in Key West. Darcy had put most of her October winnings into her savings account, only taking out enough to splurge for the beach vacation she’d been wanting to take for almost a year. They’d flown out of Oakland on the 19th after school let out for Christmas vacation and had spent the first two days of their ten-day stay laying in the sun, playing in the ocean, and wrapped up in each other. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been more relaxed in his life.

But even still, his internal clock woke him before dawn on the third day to find that Darcy had flung half her body across his sometime in the night. She’d tucked her face into his neck and her tornado of curls fell over his chest. She groaned when he shifted and he pushed back her hair to find her frowning, eyes still closed. “No,” she whined quietly. “Stay with me.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I gotta get up,” he whispered. “You keep sleeping; I’ll make some coffee.”

She let him go at that, keeping her eyes shut as she smiled and stole his pillow. “Mmm…coffee.”

Steve bent and kissed her again, noting with a grin that she’d fallen back asleep before he was even out of the room. He started the coffee before he pulled on his clothes and shoes and went for a run, hoping to burn off a little of the energy with which he’d woken up.

To his relief, almost no one else was awake to notice him sprint down the quiet streets; no one commented on how fast he was going or how far he’d run before he’d even broken a hint of a sweat. Aside from an old woman in her nightgown on her porch, no one noticed him at all.

Darcy was still asleep when he let himself back into their rented bungalow. He took a shower and pulled on a pair of shorts before he poured himself a cup of coffee and made his way to the patio with his sketchbook. He’d filled a whole page with hibiscus flowers and sand pipers before he heard Darcy moving around inside the condo. The smell of her coffee—heavily creamed and sugared—announced her presence the moment before he felt her nails comb gently into his hair.

“Good morning handsome,” she smiled sleepily when he looked up. “I’m invading your space.”

He set his sketchbook to the side and sat up on the lounge chair, dropping his feet to the ground to give Darcy a space to sit. She hummed contentedly when she sat down in front of him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. Her hair smelled like coconut, he noticed when he bent his head to kiss the back of her neck. “You sleep okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she sipped her coffee before she relaxed back against him. “How was your run?”

“It was fine,” he said before he smiled. “Some lady catcalled me.” Darcy snorted into her mug and he corrected himself, remembering the sound that had zipped down the street after he'd passed her porch. “Well, not catcalled. It was just a whistle.”

“Like a wolf-whistle?” she asked with a smile he could hear in her voice.

“Exactly like a wolf-whistle.”

Darcy snorted again. “Was she cute?”

“I’m sure at one point in time, yes,” he said diplomatically. “She was very cute.”

She giggled and stretched her arm out to set her coffee next to his on the little glass-topped table beside the lounger. Her hands fell to his legs and she drummed her nails atop his knees for a few seconds before she looked back with a smile. “Were you…wearing these shorts when you were running?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Why?”

“No reason,” she said quickly, turning back around.

“What, were you going to say that I was asking for it?” he asked around a laugh.

“Well they are _very_ short, Steve,” she said, petting his knees as she bit back a smile.

“They’re not that short,” he argued lightly. Even though they were. Especially for him.

She looked back again and scrunched her nose. “Are you sure?”

He laughed again and shook his head. “You say this like I had a wealth of options to choose from,” he reminded, tightening his arms around her. “There wasn’t a lot of variations on length at the store.”

“Okay, but was it a store for men’s clothes?”

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” he said and hoisted her up off the chair like he was going to throw her off, making her squeal loudly in surprise before he resettled his legs in front of him and set her back on his lap. She was still laughing when he pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck. “Anything you want to do today?”

“You mean aside from kind of slut-shaming you about your short shorts?”

He laughed and let his chin rest on her shoulder. “Yeah. Aside from that.”

Darcy shook her head. “Breakfast would be nice at some point,” she said thoughtfully. “And I kind of want to take a walk down the beach before it gets too crowded.” She looked back with another grin. “You can point out your catcaller—I’ll defend your honor.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re so cute.”

The sun was all the way up by the time they finished their coffee and left the condo. They went the opposite direction from where he’d run earlier, choosing the path that took them across the sand and toward the water instead.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while. Darcy’s feet sank in the wet sand, making her gait uneven before she reached out and hugged his arm. “Let’s just stay here forever.”

He smiled softly. “What about Scrabble?”

“We’d send for Scrabble, of course.” She looked up at him with a smile. “He could be a beach cat.”

“A menace to the bird population.”

“No, he’d be a pacifist,” she insisted. “He’d get extra fluffy on all the fish and treats the tourists would feed him and sleep in the sun and just lovingly chase the pipers around.” She let her cheek rest on his sleeve and slid her hand down to entwine her fingers with his. “And…you could teach art at a retirement home or a hippie commune and I could…” she looked up again. “What could I do?”

He glanced down at her and kissed the top of her head. “You could do whatever you wanted.”

Her eyes squinted in thought. “Run for mayor?”

His face split into a wide grin. “Absolutely.”

“It’s settled then,” she nodded decisively. “Scrabble will be a fat and happy beach cat. I’ll be mayor, and you’ll be my hot piece of trophy husband.” She raised her eyebrows. “How does that sound?”

He laughed again. “Like a dream come true. I would love to be a trophy husband.”

“You would be a terrible trophy husband.”

“How dare you,” he said mildly.

She only smiled wider. “You would. I know you. I worry about you enough when you’re off for summer breaks. If you didn’t work ever? You’d be out sniffing for injustices, punching cops, and starting riots, and my dinner would never be waiting for me when I came home from a long day at the office.”

He considered it for a second. “Okay, you’ve got a point.” His arm was tugged backward a moment later and he turned back, realizing that Darcy had stopped walking. She had a thoughtful look on her face. Steve squeezed her hand. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I was just thinking…” she bit her lip. “You know how you…asked me to marry you and I said yes, and you gave me this beautiful ring?” She held up her left hand; the diamond sparkled when it caught the sun.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, uncertain where she was going next. “I remember.”

“Okay, so, then, you know how in order to actually, y’know, have a wedding, we’d have to set a date and find a place and invite people and pick—I don’t know, candy-coated attendants,” she rolled her eyes and he felt himself smile, “and figure out food and favors and all of that stuff?”

“Yeah…”

“What if we just…didn’t do any of that?” He must have not hidden the way her question made his stomach plummet to his knees because she rushed on, grabbing his other hand. “No no no, I’m not saying I don’t want to marry you. I do—I do. I _really_ do.”

“You do?”

“So much,” she insisted.

“Okay,” he said, feeling only a tiny bit better. “That’s good. I want to marry you too.” He smiled again. “That’s why I asked.”

“I just thought…” she looked up at him almost shyly. “What if we got married here instead?”

“What, right now?” he asked, glancing around at the nearly empty beach. “Here?”

“Well not _here_ as in this exact location,” she conceded. “But here. In Key West. Today.” Her lip caught between her teeth and glanced down at their feet for a moment. “Unless you really don’t want to—”

“I didn’t say that,” he assured her quickly. “I’m just surprised,” he admitted. “I kind of figured you would want to do all those things you just mentioned.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “Do you want to do all those things?” she asked. “Because we can, if you want to—don’t just let me get my way if you actually want to do the whole big traditional thing.”

He grimaced without realizing it. “No,” he said, still surprised. “I don’t. It doesn’t…sound all that fun.”

“Because it isn’t,” she said plainly before she backtracked. “I mean, for some people I’m sure it’s really nice and probably is fun, but I don’t know…it’s just a bunch of money and time and stress and Steve, my God,” she gripped his forearms dramatically. “Every _single_ wedding dress I have looked at in the last three months has been so unbelievably hideous that I can’t even bring myself to try it on.”

He smirked. “So that’s what this is coming down to? Wardrobe?”

She scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, do you have your heart set on a baby blue polyester tuxedo?” She looked so cute—her hair tossed around by the wind, cheeks pink from the sun—that he couldn’t help but reach out and tickle her. “Do you?” she taunted around a cascade of giggles. “Because we can make that happen.” She squirmed against him, only managing to twist herself closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Baby blue, giant lapels, one of those frilly shirts and a bowtie you can see from space—”

“Stop stop stop,” he demanded lightly, unable to help his own laughter at the image she’d just put in his head. “I’ll marry you right now if you promise to never make me wear something like that.”

“Really?” Darcy asked, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Because I’m kidding about the suit, but if you really want to wait until we get home—”

He silenced her with a kiss, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist to pull her up onto her toes and held her tight against him. “I think we’ve waited long enough,” he assured her, letting her go slowly. “Let’s get married.”

***

The courthouse didn’t open until ten, which gave them about an hour to get ready. Steve, who had not packed with the intention of getting married on this trip, found the nicest white button-down he’d brought with a pair of brown pants that felt a little too casual for what they were about to do. But Darcy didn’t seem to mind when he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching her tame her frizzy curls in the mirror. She caught his reflection and grinned. “You look nice,” she assured him before she pulled her hair halfway up and away from her face.

“So do you,” he echoed. She’d put on a dress he’d never seen; yellow, with long, belled sleeves and printed with large white flowers. Steve came to stand behind her and helped slide a bobby pin into place. “You look beautiful.”

She glanced down at her makeup bag and Steve noticed her cheeks turn pink. “Did you notice that the courthouse is on Punchbowl Street?” she asked, digging for her lipstick. “How adorable is that?”

The courthouse on Punchbowl Street was nothing special and applying for and receiving a marriage license in the state of Florida was only as difficult as telling a clerk what they were there for and filling out a form. Darcy exchanged a nervous glance with him as she signed the paper and handed it back to the clerk. “Is that…” she frowned. “I mean, that’s not _it,_ is it?”

The records clerk smiled patiently. “No, honey. You can just have a seat and I’ll let the Justice of the Peace know that you’re here.”

They only waited about ten minutes in uncomfortable wooden chairs before a bailiff called them in. The judge looked to be about eighty years old and, judging by the way he yawned halfway through Darcy’s name, apparently giving up a mid-morning nap to perform this ceremony. He read a paragraph about the sanctity of marriage from a notecard, asked if there were any objections (neither the clerk nor the court reporter had any), and pronounced them married after a few quick questions about entering into this union of their free will and understanding the gravity of the decision they were about to make.

“Well, go on,” the judge said, looking at Steve expectantly after he’d finished speaking. “Kiss your bride.”

Even Darcy seemed surprised that it was already finished, but she tilted her chin up and accepted his kiss, leaning into him for a long, sweet moment that made him forget that there were other people around.

And just like that, according to the state of Florida, they were married.

It was only ten-thirty when all was said and done. Darcy slipped her hand back into his as they walked out of the courthouse together and stopped at the second from the last step. Steve turned back once he’d reached the bottom, so they were the same height. He smiled at the way Darcy’s lips had pouted in a thoughtful frown. “Second thoughts already?”

She shook her head quickly, her lips still downturned. “I don’t feel married,” she stated, untangling their fingers to settle her hands on his shoulders. “Do you feel married?”

“I don’t see how I could,” he admitted. “The judge could hardly stop yawning long enough to sign the papers.”

Darcy snorted and glanced over her shoulder back at the building. “I guess I just kind of figured I’d feel different?” she said before she turned back to him. “But that was just so…”

“Quick?” He guessed. “Impersonal?”

“I’ve consolidated student loans with more romance than that.”

He laughed and brought his hands up to rest on her hips. “Should we go back in?” he offered. “Tell them we want a do-over?”

Darcy giggled and shook her head. “They barely meant it that time,” she reminded. “They’d definitely be phoning it in a second time.” She leaned in and kissed him, slow and sweet, and pulled back before he could pull her any closer. “But maybe I’ll feel more married after breakfast?”

Steve considered this with a tilt of his head. “Couldn’t hurt.”

They ate breakfast at a little restaurant where they could sit outside. He was pretty sure he enjoyed what he ate, though he wasn’t really paying attention, distracted by how the breeze coming off the ocean kept blowing Darcy’s hair around, making him want to run his hands through it.

His reverie was interrupted when, halfway through her French toast, Darcy reached out and grabbed his hand. “For fuck's sake,” she said loudly enough to draw a look from the next table over.

Steve laughed. “Problem?”

“He didn’t ask us to exchange rings!” she exclaimed. “Honorable Judge Snooze,” she jerked her head in the direction of the courthouse. “ _That’s_ why we don’t feel married—we don’t have wedding rings!”

He looked down at his left hand and shook his head. “He really did phone it in, didn’t he?” he laughed. “We’re the least married couple I’ve ever seen.”

There was a little shop across the street from the restaurant. From where he sat, he could see it sold colorful sundresses and umbrellas, kids toys and—according to a little painted red sign in the window—fine jewelry.

He squeezed her hand and brought her knuckles up to his lips for a kiss. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, before standing up.

Darcy looked surprised. “Sticking me with the bill?”

He laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it, “ he promised before he bent and kissed her lips. “But I can’t have my wife be disappointed on the very first day of the rest of our lives.”

She bit back a smile. “Ooh, the w-word,” she commented. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

He kissed her again. “Be right back.”

The shop had a scrubbed wooden floor covered in sand and colorful straw mats. The walls were decorated with wide brimmed straw hats and beach towels. At the back of the shop was a small, glass case and a tan-skinned employee. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted cheerfully. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for…” Steve’s eyes narrowed in on a display of plain silver rings in the jewelry case. “Uh, that, actually,” he said, pointing them out. “Two of those, please.”

The man behind the counter smiled and removed the display, pulling it out so Steve could check that he was picking the right sizes. “Special day? “ he asked, once the selection had been made and he was heading to the cash register.

“Trying to turn it into one,” Steve admitted with a smile.

Darcy had just finished her meal when Steve returned to the table. “That was fast,” she assessed. “What were you doing?”

“I'll show you in a second,” he assured her, flagging down the waitress to pay.

The rings were not pretty. Likely no more than polished tin and a matching set had only set him back a few bucks. But Darcy still looked absolutely delighted when, after breakfast, he found a quiet spot to sit on the beach near their condo and held them out to her.

“These are placeholders,” he said, picking up the smaller of the two. “I’m getting you something nicer when we get home.”

“You don’t have to,” Darcy giggled. “I don’t mind a matching set of these Crackerjack prizes.”

He laughed. “You might mind when it turns your finger green.”

“Fair enough,” she shrugged before she put her hand over his and sobered. “But this is…” she paused. “I’d rather do this here anyway,” she said quietly. “Then I can be Darcy Lewis again for a minute—” she went on. “I want to make all my promises as myself.”

Steve reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Me too.”

She smiled and plucked his ring from his hand. “Do you mind if I go first?”

“Be my guest.”

She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. “Okay,” she took hold of his left hand and slid the ring halfway on, stopping at his knuckle. “So, I Darcy Claire Lewis, being of sound mind and body, take you,” she motioned to him needlessly, “Steven Grant Rogers, to be my husband. I promise to keep being your best friend, to always listen to you, even when you're driving me crazy, and to keep you from taking everything quite so seriously. And in return, I’m trusting you with my heart—which I know you will keep safe—because you have the biggest and best heart of anyone I’ve ever met.” An unexpected lump rose in his throat when Darcy blinked quickly, chasing away the glassiness of her own eyes. She coughed again and continued. “And I promise that I will love you everyday. Not just the good ones. The bad days and the scary days and the days where it’s probably going to feel easier to just give up and want out of this—I’ll love you those days, too.” She slid the ring over his knuckle and pushed it to rest snugly at the base of his finger before she raised her eyes to his. “Deal?”

Steve reached his other hand up to hold her face and pulled her in for a kiss. “Deal,” he said softly when they’d parted.

He watched her switch her engagement ring over to her right hand before he cleared his throat, a flutter of nerves taking hold somewhere in his stomach. “You’re a tough act to follow,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to be fancy,” she said, running her thumb over his hand. “Just be honest.”

He took a steadying inhale and nodded. “Okay then. I, Steven Grant Rogers—”

“Being of sound mind and smokin’ hot body?” Darcy asked, grinning.

“I’m not saying that.”

She shrugged. “That’s okay, I know it’s true.”

“Are you going to let me do this?” he asked with a laugh.

“Sorry, sorry,” she wet her lips and visibly settled herself back to something resembling serious. “Please continue. You, Steven Grant Rogers—”

“Take you, Darcy Claire Lewis, to be my wife.” He thought he might stumble over the words, but they felt too right, sitting on the tip of his tongue, to mess up, even as nervous as he felt. “I promise to love you and protect you and always believe you, no matter what. And I promise to do everything I can to make you as happy as you make me. And even though I could never repay you for—for bringing me back to life like you did,” he swiped his thumb gently over the soft skin of the back of her hand. “And for making me realize I could have something this… _good_ after so much—” he stopped and shook his head, noticing another tear that sparkled in Darcy’s eye. “I can’t repay that,” he admitted. “But I promise to make sure you know how grateful I am, and how much I love you every day for the rest of our lives.”

She didn’t bother wiping at the tear that streaked down her cheek as she hardly waited for him to slide her ring on before she surged forward and kissed him.

He laughed against her lips as she closed the remaining distance between them and climbed into his lap, winding her arms around his neck to rest her forehead against his. “That was perfect,” she said softly.

He smiled up at her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Do you feel a little more married now, Mrs. Grant?”

The sound of Darcy’s laugh was so sweet he wished he could bottle it. Save it for a day he needed his heart to feel as light as it did in that moment. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she admitted. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss. “I do.”

***

Though she promised herself she would remember every detail, Darcy had to admit that the rest of the day was a blur. A happy blur of kisses and champagne and lovemaking, but a blur nonetheless.

It was a little after nine that Steve left to get them a late dinner from the hotel restaurant. Having their own little cottage was nice for many reasons, but it meant that room service didn’t deliver.

“I can go with you,” she offered sleepily, not getting up from her nest of pillows and tousled sheets. Though, she wasn’t sure she could. She wasn’t entirely sure she could walk…or do much more than lay there and wait for him to come back.

Luckily for her, Steve shook his head and kissed her. “Don’t get up,” he insisted. “I’ll only be a minute.”

But she did get up after he left, if only to pull herself up to sit and gather the sheets up around herself before she grabbed the phone.

She knew the number by heart. She’d dialed it every Sunday for fifteen years for her weekly chat with her grandparents. She remembered to dial a 1 and then the area code with her trembling fingers, caught between the hope it would still be the same numbers, and hope that she’d done something wrong.

It rang only twice before someone answered. “Hello?”

Darcy’s heart stuck high in her throat and she forgot how to breathe for a whole, long second.

She realized in that second that she hadn’t expected him to be the one who answered.

“Hello?” Aaron Lewis asked again, less certain than before. He sounded so impossibly young. By Darcy’s math, her father was twenty-four years old, still living at home, but on a break from law school for the holidays, and entirely unaware of who was on the other end of the line. “Anybody there?”

“I—I’m sorry,” she choked out, remembering how to breathe and speak at the same time. “I uh, I think I have the wrong number.” Her vision swam and she forced her voice to stay steady. “I was trying to call my sister but I—I’m celebrating,” she went on, not wanting him to hang up yet. “Must have dialed wrong.”

But she knew he wouldn’t hang up yet. Her dad would talk to anyone—even strangers over the phone. He made friends with everyone he met. Delivery drivers, grocery store clerks, bank tellers, people next to him in line at amusement parks.

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding so warm and genuinely interested that another rush of emotion stung behind her nose. “What are you celebrating?”

She bit her lip. “I um,” she swallowed hard. “I got married today.” _And I wish you and Mom could have been here_ , she mouthed the words to the receiver.

“Get outta town!” her father exclaimed, just like he had when she’d shown him a glowing report card or passed her driver’s test; so painfully familiar she was certain he’d be able to hear her heart break all the way from Pennsylvania. “Mazel tov! That’s great! Good guy?” he asked, like they’d known each other all their lives. “Treat ya right?”

“Yeah,” she managed around a wet laugh. “He’s the best.”

“Well hey,” he laughed once. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m happy for you. What’s your name? Your new name,” he added quickly. “Your married name—gotta try it out.”

She swiped at the tears sliding down her cheeks. “It’s Darcy,” she said, deciding against another lie. “Darcy Grant.”

“Alright, good name,” he said appreciatively. “I’m Aaron, Darcy Grant. And I hope you guys are real happy together.”

“Thanks Aaron,” she managed. “Sorry I, uh… for the wrong number, I mean.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said easily. Same exact way she’d heard him say it a thousand times. “Hope you get the right one next time.”

“Yeah,” she laughed again, weakly. “Me too.”

He hung up long before she was ready and she was left clutching the phone like a lifeline. “Love you Dad,” she said finally.

The dial tone hummed in response.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juuuust because I didn't write about their wedding night and, well, I'm trash. :-D 
> 
> Hope you like it <3

_December 29, 1974_

Darcy had always thought she hated flying. She wasn’t _afraid_ to fly, she just hated it. Hated the hours of pointless security screenings, the cramped space, the perpetually full flights, the micro-sized bags of pretzels that were somehow supposed to sustain a human being on a fourteen-hour flight. She hated the whole experience.

Or so she had thought.

She caught Steve watching her out of the corner of her eye as she stretched her legs all the way out and pointed her toes. “What?” she asked. “What are you looking at?”

He grinned. “You,” he said simply. “Is this really that big of a change from what you were used to?”

“Steve,” she turned to him, keeping her voice down, not wanting to wake the other passengers on their nearly empty flight. “Look at all this space!” she gave a little flutter kick of her legs. “And this is plebeian travel! I could have booked us on a _luxury_ plane where we’d have the option to enjoy the upstairs piano bar,” she giggled, remembering how she’d had to stop herself from asking the travel agent if she was serious. She was. There were photos. “And there’s like, no one on this flight. This is _unheard_ of in future air travel.” She let her arms drop onto the armrests, relishing the feeling of not having to tuck her elbows in at her ribs. “How did we as a species ever give this up?”

“I assume by tiny increments,” he said, shaking his head, still looking amused. “That’s usually how these things go.”

“Mmm,” she hummed agreement and stretched her back. “Remind me to dig my heels in and resist when they start rolling out those changes.”

He smirked. “Going to lead a revolution?”

“We all need a cause to believe in,” she shrugged. “Mine is apparently going to be maintaining these giant seats and a bathroom the size of a modest studio apartment for all commercial air travel.”

He curled his hand around her fingers and brought her hand over to his lips for a kiss. “I’m behind you a hundred percent.”

Darcy looked over her shoulder as the flight attendant walked past for only the second time. With barely any passengers, this late-night flight seemed pretty boring for the two women in matching mini-skirted uniform engaged in conversation in the empty rows between first class and coach. “But speaking of those spacious bathrooms,” she said, dropping her voice even lower. “I’m going to go to the one on the left back there,” she motioned to the back of the plane with a nod of her head. “If you wanted to wait like… a minute and then come join me…”

Steve’s smile was disbelieving and slow to spread over his face. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m definitely not,” she assured him with a guilty smile. “Life offers very few chances for things like this.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Gotta carpe that diem.” She pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth and unbuckled her seat belt. “Well,” she paused before standing up. “ _I’m_ carpe-ing the diem,” she corrected herself. “ _You_ should carpe the _Darcy_ ,” she pointed to herself and stood up. “Back there. In the bathroom on the left. In a minute.”

Steve laughed silently and shook his head again. “I thought I married a nice Jewish girl,” he joked as she slid from their row into the aisle.

Darcy grinned and rolled her eyes. “You absolutely did not think that,” she whispered back. 

Neither of the flight attendants looked at her as she made her way to the very back of the plane and popped open the door of the bathroom. The yellow light bulb over the sink flickered to life after a second. Comparing it to a studio apartment wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was at least twice the size of the airline bathrooms she’d been in all her life. Not an apartment, but a decent sized walk-in closet.

She checked her reflection in the mirror while she reached beneath her long skirt and slid her panties off. She tossed them in the sink before she fluffed her hair and swiped at any stray makeup beneath her eyes. There was just enough time to entertain the doubt that this was a good idea before the door opened again, extinguishing the light.

It came back on the moment Steve closed the door behind him and slid the lock into place. Darcy felt an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach as he inched into the space and took her face in his hands. “You’re going to get us in trouble, Mrs. Grant,” he said in a low voice that made her breath hitch.

“Do you think anyone saw you?” she asked, pulling back just slightly when he went to kiss her.

He shook his head. “No, they weren’t paying attention.”

She smiled and backed up the inch she was able until she felt the small ledge of the counter behind her. “Then what are you worried about?”

Steve answered by fitting his mouth to hers. His tongue slipped easily between her open lips and she hummed a sound of contentment against him as the thrill of what they were doing hit her belly with a pool of heat. “That,” he whispered, breaking apart to give her a breath. “You’re not exactly quiet, you know.”

Darcy matched his smile and perched on the edge of the counter. “Guess you’ll have to keep me quiet then, won’t you?”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered before he dropped his lips to hers again.

She dragged her fingers down his chest and pulled at the button and zipper on his pants. He was half hard already by the time she slipped her hand beneath his waistband to stroke his cock. He groaned against her lips and she grinned. “Shh,” she pulled away with a whisper.

Steve slid her skirt up around her hips and pushed her up onto the ledge. He hooked his hands beneath her knees and spread her legs while she shoved his pants down. She pumped him with one hand and curled her other around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.

The plane hit a pocket of turbulence the moment before their lips touched and bounced hard enough to slam the back of Darcy’s head against the wall. “Owww,” she whined softly, laughing at the same time Steve did. His shoulders shook as he reached out and rubbed her head.

“This is such a bad idea,” he chuckled, pulling her forward to press a kiss to her temple. She might have been inclined to agree, but he didn’t stop. He trailed his hand from her hair, running is fingers along her jaw before he tilted her chin up.

“Terrible,” she agreed between kisses. He was still hard and hot in her hand and she squeezed her knees around his hips. “But we’re already here,” she reminded, tilting her head to one side when his lips wandered to her neck and the spot just below her ear. “Might as well.”

“Shh,” Steve reminded, hushing the word against her neck the moment before he pushed three fingers between her lips. She couldn’t help the little moan that stayed in the back of her throat as she sucked deftly, laving her tongue beneath his fingertips before she opened her mouth. She only had a moment for a sharp inhale before Steve’s tongue was circling hers and his fingers were between her thighs, parting her folds, pressing warm and wet against her clit.

Darcy released his cock to curl her hands around his hips, tugging him forward. He broke their kiss roughly and lined himself up, taking a second to cover her mouth with his free hand before he sank into her with one, fluid motion. She groaned against his palm and held tight to his hips, pulling herself against him when he thrust.

The plane jolted again, and Steve clenched his jaw, grinding a guttural sound between his teeth when she clenched around him in surprise. He found a rhythm—a jerky, uneven rhythm that pulled her breath from her with each thrust and drew little moans she couldn’t control, making him press down harder against her lips. “Does that feel good?” he asked, dropping his voice to a low murmur right against her ear. “Is this what you wanted?” Darcy nodded feverishly; every thrust mixing with the thrill that they might get caught, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. His fingers rubbed her clit again and she hummed with a jolt of pleasure, nodding again, praying he wouldn’t stop.

She wrapped her legs tight around him, trapping his hand between them when she came hard and unexpected; her toes curled inside her shoes and her eyes squeezed shut, spots in her vision when she opened them. She gasped for a breath when Steve’s hand fell from her mouth and grabbed hold of her thighs, pushing her legs farther apart. Her fingers sank into his hair when he tucked his face against her neck, speeding up the snap of his hips against hers. “Come on, Steve,” she breathed. “Come for me.”

His short nails dug into her skin and he huffed a harsh exhale into the crook of her neck. He pushed her hard into the sharp edge of the counter, slowing his thrusts finally as he spilled into her.

They were both breathing hard as he lifted his forehead from her shoulder and their eyes met. Flushed and sweaty and crammed together in this too-small space. Darcy smiled and took Steve’s face in her hands, pulling him in for a sweet, gentle kiss. “Happy One Week Anniversary,” she whispered.

He smiled back and moved a lock of her hair out of her face. “I love you,” he exhaled the words before he met her lips again and pulled out.

“I love you too,” she sighed happily.

He ducked out of the bathroom first, giving her space to clean up. She closed the door behind him and slid the lock into place.

“Sir, is everything alright?”

Darcy froze at the sound of another woman’s voice waiting for Steve on the other side of the door.

She heard him cough and winced, wishing for only a second that she’d married a better liar. “Fine,” Steve said. “My—uh—my wife isn’t feeling well. I was just uh—” he coughed again. “Making sure she’s okay.”

Both flight attendants were waiting for her when she’d finished cleaning up and had reassembled her appearance as best she could. “Oh, uh, hi,” she said, greeted with their expectant expressions the moment she opened the door. “Didn’t know there was a line.”

The older of the two blondes gave her a once-over and lifted her eyebrows higher. “Feeling better?” she asked.

Darcy felt her cheeks get hot as she nodded and smothered a guilty smile between her lips. “Uh-huh,” she managed before flashing them a friendly smile. “Much better.” She scurried away from their knowing looks before her face got any redder and crashed back into her seat next to Steve.

“You think they’re onto us?” he asked while they both refastened their seat belts.

“Are you kidding me?” she whispered. “Of course they are.”

Steve snorted a laugh and pushed up the armrest between them so he could pull her to his side and give her a place to hide her flaming cheeks and guilty giggles. He kissed the top of her head. “Still worth it,” he said.

She laughed again, feeling light and giddy and more in love than she ever thought possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "carpe diem/carpe Darcy" lines are from comments by crimtastic and biblioworm on an older fic in this series. Hope you don't mind me stealing from your sweet and silly brains. 
> 
> Also Steve's "I thought I married a nice Jewish girl" is from Marvelous Ms. Maisel. 
> 
> I'd love to know what you thought my sweet kittens!


	3. Chapter 3

_January 1, 1975_

Darcy’s nose twitched her awake on the first day of the new year. She sat up in bed, trying not to move too quickly and crank the low hum of her hangover to a higher volume.

She tilted her head to one side at the sound of Scrabble’s familiar trilling meow from the kitchen.

“Buddy, you’re not getting any of these pancakes,” she heard Steve say over the sizzle of the frying pan. Scrabble wailed pitifully again. “Cut it out,” Steve laughed. “You’re going to wake up Darcy.”

Darcy smiled to herself and threw back the covers. She grabbed Steve’s sweatshirt from the foot of the bed and pulled it on over her t-shirt before she padded down the hall and into the kitchen.

Steve glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her before he looked down at the cat sitting patiently at his ankles. “See?” he asked before he nodded in her direction. “Go say you’re sorry.”

Darcy giggled and crossed the small kitchen to scoop Scrabble up and into her arms. She kissed one of his ears before he started to purr and rubbed his head beneath her chin. She stretched up on her toes to brush her lips to Steve’s next. “Happy new year.”

“Happy new year,” he echoed before he turned his attention back to the griddle and flipped the bubbling pancake. “How are you feeling?”

She wrinkled her nose and set Scrabble down when he began to struggle and squirm. “Like I was a lot drunker than I thought last night.”

“An impromptu wedding reception will do that to you,” he joked lightly.

She rested her forehead on his shoulder and sighed. Tangie had reacted almost exactly as Darcy had expected when she caught a glimpse of Steve’s wedding ring the night before. She’d screamed, thrown her arms around him and then Darcy, made some comment about how she figured they were just going to live in sin forever, and then promptly raised her voice and announced to everyone who’d gathered at her and Darren’s house that this was no longer just a New Year’s Eve party, but a reception too.

It was the best kind of reception, as far as Darcy was concerned: no cake, no specific dances with everyone staring, no tossing of bouquets and garters. Just music and friends and plenty of champagne.

Scrabble meowed again as he wound between Darcy’s ankles and then back to Steve’s. She bent down to absently scratch his head, spying the stack of pancakes Steve had already plated on the counter. She stood again and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to the spot between his shoulder blades. “Did you make enough of those pancakes to share with your wife?” she asked, unable to keep from smiling at the word she was still getting used to.

“No,” Steve said, surprising her as he flipped the next pancake onto the plate to join the others. “I’m only making enough for myself,” he turned back and grinned. “But according to the law in the state of California, you’re entitled to half of them.”

Her smile broadened and she shook her head. “You’re such a troll.”

“I’ll bring you a plate,” he said before he turned to drop a kiss to the top of her forehead.

She poured herself some coffee and pulled up a chair at the table where she’d tossed her purse the night before. Her hand tucked inside it, groping for her glasses before her fingers brushed something else. She pulled it and her glasses case out, shoving her frames onto her face before she realized what she’d forgotten. The stop she’d made on her walk to the grocery store the day before.

Steve set a plate stacked with four fluffy pancakes in front of her. Scrabble meowed again plaintively before Steve laughed and turned back to the stove to shut it off. Darcy watched, amused, as he picked one pancake, about the size of a sand dollar, from the remaining stack and tossed it into Scrabble’s dish. The cat gave an excited trill and dashed over to attack his treat while Steve sat down, shaking his head.

Darcy beamed. “Wrapped around his little paw.”

He shrugged. “It’s a holiday,” he reminded. “Everyone gets a treat.”

“Speaking of treats,” she said, setting the little velvet jewelry box onto the table. “And other various shiny things.” She reached across the table for his left hand and wiggled the dull silver band off his finger.

“What are you doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Giving you an upgrade,” she said with a smile and popped open the box to reveal the set of shiny gold wedding bands she had purchased the day before and had nearly forgotten about. Steve smiled as she plucked his from the box and held it up. “Do you, Steven Grant Rogers still want me, Darcy Claire Lewis?”

He chuckled with a nod. “More than anything in the world,” he assured her before she slid the ring onto his finger. He pulled off both of the rings on her left hand before reached over and took the thinner band from its velvet pocket. “Do you, Darcy Claire Lewis, still want me, Steven Grant Rogers?”

“Pfft!” she scoffed. “Like you’re ever getting rid of me.” She giggled and rolled her eyes affectionately when she realized he still looked hesitant. “Yes, Steve,” she said. “I still want you—for ever and ever and ever.”

It was ridiculous how his smile flipped her stomach as he settled the new ring above her knuckle and replaced her engagement ring.

She laced their fingers together across the table and squeezed his hand. “Then, by the power vested in me by absolutely no one, I pronounce us _still_ married. Now and forever—absolutely no take-backs.”

He tugged on her hand and pulled her up out of her chair and over to his lap. “Still married,” he repeated, pulling her in for a kiss. “No take-backs.”

With Steve’s arms around her waist, and all the warm and safe feelings that being near him tucked around her like a blanket, Darcy didn’t want to get up. She grabbed the fork he’d set for himself and used the edge to cut into his stack of pancakes. He didn’t object and opened his mouth when she speared three pieces of cake together and held it out to him.

He fed her the next bite, seemingly content to eat breakfast this way. She smiled softly once she’d swallowed. “Pancakes, husband, and shiny new wedding rings,” she wiggled the fingers of her left hand. “I’d say 1975 is off to a damn good start.”

From the corner, where he’d nearly devoured his own cat-sized pancake, Scrabble purred loudly in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how this got deleted originally, BUT, I do want to give credit re: Steve's line about only making pancakes for himself is a re-work of one of my favorite lines from Buffy. And Darcy's "no takebacks" rule is something my husband and I have been saying ever since he gave me my engagement ring a million (okay, eleven) years ago. 
> 
> *kisses*

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't actually know how getting married at the courthouse (in Key West, in 1974) works. All I had to go on was my grandma's story of how she and my grandfather eloped and were left standing around like "Wait, was that it? Are you SURE we're married?" So this was a little nod to them and their very sweet love story.
> 
> Hope you liked!


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